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Sarah Isma May 2018
I’ve now grown and I turned out alright
But one day I came to realize
That this was not a smooth flight
And the scary things that I saw
Is the reason why I held on to my seat so tight
Now here are the few things
That made me hate this horrible, terrible ride
        The fact once you realize
that your parents are sometimes never right.
To see that they are flawed beings, with broken wings and ****** mistakes.
To realize the truths and the smiles they fake,
Growing up to see only the image portrayed- was only for your sake.
They hide the tears and shower us with laughters
They told us joyful stories and happily ever afters,
But just as soon as i grow
Only now that I understand they were telling their own dreams,
        That had slipped right out their fingers
So ask me what’s the saddest part growing up?
To see the hollow sadness from the two people,
who once i thought was happiest.
i never really knew how much things could effect parents, the slightest action i could now see their subtle response- i understand now. Its just the fire in them burning out, only dim enough for them to keep me going- so i don't burn out too.
David N Juboor Dec 2015
My mom
Tells me I'm a gift.

She says love
Is what keeps the atoms
In you and I
Is the moment
She caught my
Father's eye
Is the day
My grandfather died
With a candy kiss on his cheek
She had never tasted something so sweet.

When we were little
We played kickball,
The ground is lava
And hide-and-go-seek.
As I grew I knew most days,
It was harder to find myself;
Let alone somebody else.

And I have been around
Enough center city playgrounds
To see the rich
Pump every bit of spare change
In their veins fighting
A cancer that they
Never learned to put in their past.
To see the poor
Wage wars with themselves
Trying to pick up
Way too much,
Way too fast;

Nobody really knows how to make love last.

So put your prism your heart
Beneath the moonlight.
Refract the wavelengths
Of your wonders
Into ROYGB-eautiful like the sea,
It took a lot of jellyfish to let
people see through me.

And even more mirrors
To find a place I was comfortable
Praying in.

Fraying in doorways
Where I learned hope,
Is looking both ways
On a one way street
Cause it can be so easy to thank God
While you still have bread to eat.

I have never prayed
So hard for a healthy meal
Than the days I remember
The heart is a muscle;
And sometimes the only
Thing we need
Is to "work it out."

And I know that some days,
My doubt hangs my
Smile like Jesus Christ
I never quite learned
How to bleed right.

But if there's one thing
I found from cleaning
The crosses out of the
Empty hallway of my character
Is that you haven't experienced loss
Until you've held two outstretched arms
For years waiting for your innocence to come back.
Nothing, weighs more than the guilt of your past
And nothing throws punches
Faster than the ghost of who you used to be.

And I know it's hard
To stop looking for yourself
Under every bed you
Left nightmares in
And I know it's hard
To be comfortable
In your own skin

But sometimes bars
Aren’t the only thing
That builds a cage
And sometimes
The only way to live
With yourself
Is to stop digging
Your own grave.

You can spend years
Listening to morticians
And never get grounded.
Surrounded by the
Square roots we all share,
By the same air,
We've all got to learn to let go.

To learn that
Holding your breath
Has never been how
Living things
Learn to
Grow
"We're all hurtling towards death, yet here we are for the moment, alive. Each of us knowing we're going to die, each of us secretly believing we won't"
r m b May 2017
It's strange
how childhood felt
like a train ride
that would never stop
like reading a book
with an infinite number of pages

But now you're 19-turning-twenty
and the train has finally
come to a definite stop
the tracks have changed its path
and you've reached the end
the epilogue

It's time to move on
move along and grow up
step off that train
and on to the next adventure
close that book
and start a new chapter

Be brave and brace yourself
for there is more to come
beginnings can be daunting
because it also means
saying goodbye to a life
you've lived and loved.
Note to self.
Happy 20th to me.
hello adulthood I don't want to be here
Holding hands to cross the street
Feel the sand under my feet
The way you twirl me, like a cotton candy man
I feel so girly as you wind each curly strand

When I'm growing up too fast
And the world demands a lady
You remind me of my past,
Though it often might evade me

Summer days and autumn leaves
Wading through the endless trees
The way you hold me when I just can't sleep at night
I lay there coldly as you slowly soothe my mind


After all is said and done,
So thankful you're the one
To bring back the daughter in me
Song lyrics for a country tune, written from the perspective of a husband-seeking daughter grown up.
Sprishya Aug 2017
It has to be better than this
The lemonades are turning to dust
Silverlinings have all rained down
Life's got to be bigger than this
The flower that once was
Now a thorn sharper than dead dreams
Stabbing all hope
This dark vacuum is ******* me in
I'm holding on to the last beam of light
But my grip is slipping and I'm scared
Aren't things supposed to work out?
Well begun is now all undone
(Los Angeles, Aug 22 2017)
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
People stare at me with confused eyes
They ask to know where my secret lies
They wonder where I found my gait
They love the way I articulate
The softness of my arms
My captivating youthful charm:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman

I walk with a quirky poise
People whisper, and it's a delightful noise
The smile on my lips
The curve of my hips
They say I've always been this cool
But honey, do not be fooled:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman

They see fire in my eyes
They say I'm for keeps 'cause I'm a prize
There is a grace in my vibes
Something good to imbibe
The warmth I bring
The joy I bring:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman

There is something about me
How did I come to be?
The reason behind my womanly pride
The reason for my sedate stride
My aura, as that of a beloved emperor
My shoulders high like that of a conqueror:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman

They say I am a mystery
There's definitely more to me
In the stillness of my mind
In the presence of my kind
I become more of the woman I am meant to be
The best of me you are yet to see:
This is my woman
The woman I have become
All these and more, are my woman
Marla Apr 2019
Peering upside down
Hanging from a monkey bar
As laughter rings all around,
Both near and far.
I can't seem to stop missing that innocent bliss
That followed me everywhere before I turned six.
Now I'm kind of sad that all I have are memories,
But I guess that's to remind me happiness is still possible.
M Apr 2019
Little pink ribbons  
Locked in a man-made prison
Accumulate dust.

I have not forgotten

The lullabies in their shadows.
Tea with too much sugar
Mom’s high heels with bows on the toes
& always a little too much room.

now ***,
a few too many sleeping pills,
stilettos with red soles.

blister forming
Near the heart.
this is a rough draft of an idea I came up with when sleep deprived. constructive criticism is welcome!
pk tunuri Jun 2018
I left my home in the name of education
I left my hometown in the name of higher education
I left my state in the name of graduation
I left my family in the name of aspiration

At times, I miss my childhood
Although, the fun & friends weren't the same in my adulthood
In order to get rid of their falsehood
I left them too, for my own good

I have traveled so far away from home
Now, When I let my thoughts to roam
All they bring back is sadness and pain
And then, I left my tears to drain

I lost myself in this whole journey of life
There were times when I often looked for a knife
Not just to **** me but to end the pain
I left everything and I'm waiting for a magical rain
Irate Watcher Nov 2018
It creeps up on me.
The sneaking suspicion
that I'm stuck
in it.
My hair is falling
in my face.
Only a year ago...

I built everything —
it was so clear.

Even though —
it was chaos.

People were worried.
But it was simple.

It was as simple
as simmering sausage
in a saucepan,
sweating in a brick kitchen,
listening to Sade,
and thinking of rooftops.

Things are more grounded now.
People are less worried.
The kitchen is smaller,
and shared.
I turn down Sade
when someone enters.
I'm still sweating,
but it's because something
is wrong with the heating system.

I long to take
an anonymous walk
between buildings.
There are only
neighborhoods
and shopping centers here.
And I keep running
into people who know me.

It's either too cold or too hot —
It's never summer every day.

Everything that was hanging on
my walls
is on the floor.
Precious paintings and prints
dusting with potential.

I reveal myself
less to strangers.
I don't take public transportation.
It's disconcerting how
comfortable having a vehicle is.
I feel urged to uproot,
swinging in someone
else's hands,
but feel like..
I'm interrupting.
Can't I just arrive for awhile?

My safety net is too big
and my home is too small.
But if I abandon it,
I'll wonder if I'm bound
to be restless.
This comes from the heart. I don't mean to complain — I'm grateful for what I have now and am so happy to not be struggling. But sometimes, with things so comfortable, I feel less alive and wonder if I'm getting complacent.
ManxPoetryGuy Jan 2019
Large city filled with empty people,
Hollow husks of what we used to be,
Dreams lay abandoned on the street,
I wish to be set free.
The future maybe closer than we think...
Kellin Sep 2019
Adulthood will sink into my skin
it will decay my bones to sand
it will ease memories from my head
And make me feel dead
Chloe M Teng Dec 2016
Before I go to sleep, read me
A bedtime story,
Read me
a bedtime story.

I would like to be young again.

That I could wake in solace
From the sleepless dream of a child's stage
Where the world is of no concern,
but only fairies and knights reside.

Such magic can only be found in their eyes.

If we could never wake up to reality
To face the crippling truth that there is no such
Happiness
In the blossoming of adulthood,
Then every day of our lives would be
Beautiful.

Every day
would end with the last pages
Of a happy ever after.
Amarys Dejai Jul 2018
I often wish that I was still a child.
So many things change when we grow up.
Innocence becomes lost,
days become shorter,
the nighttime still scares me,
playing house becomes a game of survival,
boys become men, men become frightening,
I become sad, worried, anxious, and self-aware,
friends will lose their half of the necklace or their friendship ring,
being loved by someone will determine my worth,
I no longer feel small next to the kitchen counter,
but in the presence of everyone around me,
“Forever” loses its meaning,
everyone will eventually leave,
death is no longer a myth,
I will not smile as often as I did,
I will not cry as little as I did,
I will not feel safe in school anymore,
I will not go outside and play anymore,
I will try and pick the imperfections off of
my skin until it is red and bleeding,
**** in my stomach whenever I walk,
work myself into exhaustion,
feel overwhelmed by every task,
have anxiety attacks in public places,
and wish that I was a child again.
What thoughts I have of you tonight, October,
for I’ve never walked alone the way I ought.
A double-decade drained. Divisive and over,
comprised of people collected,
and characters stolen.

This I know though, what it seems,
More than the changing of my lot,
For this world I can’t imagine,
Has borne far less than what I sought.

Now I stand to face the breeze,                        a chilling wind, a scattershot,
See these leaves in perfect juncture, with their wilting and their rot.
For it’s innocence I’ve lost and it’s innocence I’ll bear
When this age creates misgivings and I can’t help but feel distraught.

Cheeks of flesh turn to cold and replicate these ones
the chips and the dents that summon the reason,
I take this, accept it, a tall child in season,
Twenteen, more than once, I love you.
I turned twenty on the 13th of October
Felix Sipido Oct 2018
The golden light shines bright
But does not reach the abyss of my being
Yet.
An Oracle showed me the way;
But it is I,
who must now choose the path I take.
Leaving the insouciance of my place of birth
For the big, beautiful and scary world.

The path is, however, not the end,
What matters most is how the traveller crosses it;
Living for love, wisdom and knowledge,
On a path of tears, joy, and pain;
Is preferable to living for fake happiness
On a path of lies, deceit and sorrows.

The forest is waking up
On the dawn of a new day;
One where I will blossom like the Amaryllis
Until dusk catches up
And fate leaves me forsaken.

But before the slow marching of time
And its eternal sleep
Get to me,
I will make sure to fully live my life,
For one must die to live eternally.

From the dawn of adulthood
To the dusk of my life
I will make sure to get remembered
And to make you mine.
For I believe we share a fate,
A mind,
And a love.
Little poem about how I imagine my future will look like. Give me feedback :)
Deb Jones Aug 2018
How much do we remember
of our childhood?
The scariest parts
The fears in the dark
And where special moments are parked
An odd mixture of things
Some out of context, really
A jumble of patterns
Like a patchwork quilt
To give us a handmade cover
To cushion the blows
Of adulthood
I'm grinding
and the dirt
I'm grinding
and the dirt
I'm grinding
and the dirt


And I don't
understand?

I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

please help me,


"The clawed hand is not for shaking,
although it has amazing grip."
-zₑᵤₛ



"Eat a pork shoulder
dusted in granite powder...
dash of cumen, a salty pinch
you'll get over it."
-ᴾᵉˡᵒᵖˢ

                                                  

    ­                                              "He is a porky one isn't she?" -ᴱʳᶦˢ




Betty, uh, Ms. Page,
didn't it bother you?

"Bother me?"

Well you know,
being a person of God,
-doing those things for money?

"Silly, I do what I do
BECAUSE I AM a believer!"
-ᴮᵉᵗᵗʸ ᴾᵃᵍᵉ
Nobody chooses a bottle willingly. A pill or a loaded gun, in the end it's all the same.

We're waiting, still, hiding. In our holiest of places:

The kitchen and the office. A quiet sideways-slide into the last available stall in a casino washroom. The seat is still warm.

Teachers don't tell kids that drugs are bad. They told us that we were the evil ones for deep-******* a bottle of ***** every Friday.

They didn't know what we had to go home to.

Cancer sounded better than living past 20, and that's the thing that they'll never comprehend:

There's always a reason underneath overdose.

The only time a drug is bad is when you can't afford it, and you're sitting alone in a fetal position crying in need for a chemical bliss that you've caressed over and over; a blanket covering memories. Feelings. Emotions.

The only time a drug is bad is when you're too **** poor to grab anything better than a box of Benadryl and a dimebag of shake.

The only time a drug is bad is when you're anything but rich an' white and pretty, because then you're not addicted, you're having fun with the price of 1,000 a week at an all-inclusive rehab resort.

Drugs don't discriminate, but people sure as Hell do.

There's always a reason underneath overdose.

There's always a reason underneath.

There's always a reason.
Morrie W S May 2019
every day i wake up
           expecting full formation
     only to discover i have yet to pop.

life feels like a kernel in my back left molar.
      

        i look for my future in
     yesterday's egg scramble.
       the yolk: no solution,
no bramble
  

i yearn all the more  for my unrummaged brain--
keep ice in my left hand,
sanity in the wrong vein.

i always fall too steep,
staccato fingers quick to adjust
a smile to a frown.
i always bruise my hips on the way down.


my glass-bottom floor,
my lamp-lit contingency.
all's  keepin' me afloat:
my swiss-riddled dignity.
oof.
Keiya Tasire Jun 2019
Something Begins to Arise.
What is it?
Is it  this a dream?
How can it be?
I am not happy!!!

Tantrums
It is NOT Love!!
It is SUPPOSE to be about Love!
This is NOT about Love!
WHO'S DREAM IS IT!!!!?
This is NOT what I want!

Seeds of Awareness
Am I living someone's dream?
What do you mean it is not my dream?

Inner War
What do you mean it 's a program!
No, you are out of your mind!
I refuse to believe it!!
Where did it come from?
How did it happen?
Who is doing this?
No it can't be!
What is it's roots?
What are it's branches?
All I want is to be loved!
All I want is to be happy?
No things! I will not! I refuse to strive for riches!
NO! I will not be a LAWYER!
NO!  I will not be a BANKER like you!
Riches! Riches! Riches! Don't you care about LOVE? !!!!
Does Love even exist in your heart for me?
Or is it a lie too?!!!

My Anger Stirs
Seeps from every pore!
How this be? Lies!
It's ALL lies!!!
There was an uneasy sense of awareness when I begin to remember the pain and core of my suffering as I grew up. Within myself, I realize that I did not have the power to effect a change in my life for the better as a child or a teenager. I was still within the illusion of my cultural's & family's illusionary dream. As an adult, I become aware that I can choose differently. My anger pushed me on to take the needed steps toward creating something different in my own life.
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